


everything will glow for you

by waterandsilver



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some dom/sub undertones, anakin and obi-wan were fucking like bunnies throughout the clone wars, and you will never convince me otherwise, but mainly smut, literally just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 21:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterandsilver/pseuds/waterandsilver
Summary: Sometimes when Anakin kisses, Obi-Wan has half a mind to remind him that he's not in battle anymore.





	everything will glow for you

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear: although Anakin uses the term 'Master' several times, he's no longer a Padawan at this stage and they're both consenting adults. No power imbalance. It's purely for kinky purposes.

Sometimes when Anakin kisses, Obi-Wan has half a mind to remind him that he’s not in battle anymore.

The door of their quarters has barely closed when Obi-Wan finds himself spun around and pushed into the nearest wall. His back hits the metal frame of the cabin hard; the robe he was wearily stripping off falls to the floor as Anakin kisses him with hot, needy lips. It takes him by surprise, but it still makes desire flicker through him. Who is he to turn down a challenge? Sliding a hand under the other man’s shirt, he kisses back, hard, smirking into the kiss. He can already feel the warm flush of Anakin’s body, even though they’re both still clothed, pressing up against his own.

Eventually, though, he needs air, and he pushes Anakin away.

“You’re in a mood,” he comments, panting a little.

They spent most of the day in laborious council meetings, and then they’d had to deal with a skirmish when they unexpectedly emerged from hyperspace beside two rogue Separatists cruisers. Small ones, thankfully. They hadn’t been prepared for a fight – they were heading away from the battlefield, not towards it – and they’d had to improvise, which by their standards meant leaping onto the enemy ships, fighting their way to the control rooms and bringing them down from the inside while somehow getting off themselves before they imploded. Neither of them were injured, apart from a few bruises, but it certainly got Obi-Wan’s blood pumping.

Anakin strips off his own robe but his fingers pause as he’s working at the buttons on Obi-Wan’s shirt. His eyes flicker up, dark with lust.

“I saw you today,” he says, in a low voice that does things to Obi-Wan’s stomach. He steps in a little closer, closing the distance between them, and Obi-Wan lets him pull off his shirt. “On the hanger. You were watching me, weren’t you?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth goes dry, but that’s soon rectified when Anakin presses another kiss to his lips, like he’s trying to bruise. But his lips don’t stop there; they go lower, trailing a hard line of kisses down Obi-Wan’s throat, and then catching there, right on the sensitive skin. Obi-Wan’s breath hitches. How is it that Anakin knows to press buttons that Obi-Wan barely even realised he had? Or maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s that whatever Anakin does to him, Obi-Wan is bound to be into it.

It’s true: even knowing how risky it is, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the younger man, even in the midst of a fight. Could anyone blame him if his eyes lingered on the sight of Anakin with his hair in glorious disarray, his eyes shining, his breath coming hard and his cheeks flushed from exhilaration?

They’ve fucked before, twice, and both times, Obi-Wan doesn’t know exactly how it had happened. The close quarters of the ship definitely contributed. The first time, they’d been arguing about something, something they both knew was petty and inconsequential, but once they’d started, neither of them was going to back down. So their voices grew louder and louder and then before Obi-Wan knew it he was shoving Anakin up against a wall and they were both hard and panting and tearing each other’s clothes off. Anakin had cursed him and dug his fingers into his back so hard that he left bruises when he’d come from Obi-Wan’s touches.

He can feel himself getting hard now, as Anakin sucks hickeys along his throat and collarbones, knowing damn well that Obi-Wan isn’t going to be able to cover those up; the collar of his Jedi robe is too low.

“I saw you  _watching_  me when I was fighting,” Anakin breathes against his skin. “A little reckless, don’t you think?”

Obi-Wan pulls him up to eye level again and strips off Anakin’s shirt in return.

“How am I supposed to keep my eyes off you?”

He drinks in the sight of Anakin’s lithe, muscled torso. He’s fairly sure Anakin could be skinny as a beanpole or chubby or whatever, and he’d still look amazing. It’s the way he moves that get Obi-Wan so badly; the confidence that radiates from him, the slight swagger that he would never admit to, the rippling brightness of his Force signature, which has matured with his years. The way he moves, lean and graceful but with such  _power_  behind his movements. Obi-Wan is never sure if he wants to fuck Anakin into the floor or be on the receiving end. He’d be more than happy to comply with either.

“You’re very distracting,” he mutters. “You’re a bad influence.”

Anakin’s lips quirk up into a sly grin. “Well, maybe you’re the one who needs to have some self-control,” he murmurs, and then adds in a low, grinding voice, “ _Master_.”

Oh  _Force_ , that shouldn’t do the things that it does to Obi-Wan’s dick. Anakin smirks when he sees the reaction it gets from him, and resumes his task of ridding them of clothing. Except when he’s pushed Obi-Wan’s pants to the floor, he doesn’t immediately take his own off, but gives Obi-Wan a shit-eating grin and pushes down Obi-Wan’s underwear. Obi-Wan never appreciated how long Anakin’s fingers are until the first time he felt them wrapped around his length. Jerking himself off hasn’t been the same since. Fuck, he missed this. Pathetic, really, since it’s only been two weeks at most since their last elicit shared-cabin activities. As Anakin’s talented fingers work up and down his cock, his hands slide up from the younger man’s back and thread through his hair (how is it that Obi-Wan even manages to find his  _hair_  attractive? With those thick curls, and the hint of gold that bounces off them in the light…)

He mostly just needs something to grip onto, but Anakin seems to interpret it as something else. His hand falters on Obi-Wan’s cock, and he pulls away from him. Obi-Wan’s about to ask if he’s done something wrong, when he’s murmuring in his ear again.

“Is that your way of telling me you want me on my knees, Master?”

And then before Obi-Wan can get a word out, he’s sinking down before him. Obi-Wan lets out an embarrassingly loud moan when he feels Anakin’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, and then he can’t think of anything but the wet heat of his mouth doing utterly wicked things to his cock.

He knows Anakin is teasing him. Like he does when he jumps off a craft in mid-air, or forces it into a sudden nosedive just to make Obi-Wan yelp. Anakin looks up at him with the most innocent round eyes as he drags his lips up and down Obi-Wan’s length. And fuck, the sight of Anakin with his mouth full of Obi-Wan’s cock is turning him on just as much as the actual things he’s doing with his mouth.

When he’s reduced Obi-Wan to a shaky, boneless mess, Anakin pulls away, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and  _smirks_.

And suddenly, indignation sparks up in Obi-Wan.

Anakin is being a tease, like always, but Obi-Wan doesn’t let his former Padawan best him on the battlefield. Why should the bedroom be any different? If Anakin wants a battle, he’s going to get one.

He grabs his arm and drags him upright roughly, drawing a noise of surprise, but Obi-Wan doesn’t give him any chance to protest before he’s shoving his tongue into Anakin’s mouth. He can taste himself on his lips.

Anakin stumbles backwards, and Obi-Wan pushes him back further, until he falls onto the end of the nearest bed. Obi-Wan kicks his pants aside and strides up to him, and Anakin leans back on his elbows, grinning and looking him up and down appreciatively. His eyes linger on Obi-Wan’s cock, and Obi-Wan sees him  _lick his fucking lips_ , the little shit, but before he can make a move, Obi-Wan is dropping to his knees, pulling down Anakin’s own pants and spreading his legs to get between them. His untouched cock springs free, already hard. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, you enjoyed that?”

Obi-Wan wraps his fingers around Anakin’s cock, but lightly, ever so lightly, barely ghosting over the skin. He touches his lips lightly against the head of Anakin’s cock, just enough to smear the bead of precome over his lips, just enough to taste him. Satisfaction curls inside him when he sees Anakin’s face twist in frustration.

“So greedy Anakin… when will you learn that it’s not the Jedi way?”

And then Anakin is moaning above him as Obi-Wan’s lips enclose his cock, and he can do nothing but writhe on the bed as his former Master swallows him down. Anakin might be younger, but sometimes age is an advantage, and Obi-Wan certainly has a few tricks up his sleeve. Or down his throat, in this instance.

Eventually Anakin’s fingers are curling into the sheets, and gasping pleas reach Obi-Wan’s ears.

“Master— please—”

Obi-Wan pulls off.

“Please what?”

“I’m not going to last much longer and I—” Anakin manages to sit up enough to meet his eyes “I  _want you_.”

The words send a thrill like no other through Obi-Wan.

“You want me?”

“Yes!” he snaps impatiently. “I want you to fuck me, okay?”

_Kriff_. Obi-Wan has no qualms about disobeying that order. They’ve never gone that far yet, although they’ve certainly had a lot of fun.

He knocks over three bottles as he scrambles for the lube in the drawer beside the bed. When his hands finally close around it, he tosses it onto the bed and then does the same with Anakin, lifting him easily by his narrow hips and manhandling him properly onto the bed, on his back. Anakin spreads his legs in a way that makes Obi-Wan wants to fuck him into next week.

“I want you to fuck me,  _Master_.”

_Stars above_  – Obi-Wan doesn’t need telling a third time.

He pops the cap of the lube and slicks up two fingers before pushing them into Anakin’s entrance. Anakin lets out a shaky breath beneath him, and Obi-Wan bends over; the position is awkward, but he manages to capture his lips in a kiss that’s much softer than their previous ones. Obi-Wan works him open carefully, adding a third finger when he’s certain Anakin is ready. He knows Anakin isn't a virgin from an admission during an extremely intoxicated drinking game a few months ago, where Obi-Wan had to do his best not to flush with jealousy in a room full of drunk clones. Still, despite their tussling, he’s highly aware of the fact that Anakin’s putting a lot of trust in him here. The last thing he wants to do is hurt him. After a while, he's shuddering at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s fingers inside of him, and Obi-Wan knows when he finds the younger man’s prostate, because he jerks and hisses an absolutely foul curse under his breath. Obi-Wan smirks and curls his fingers again in the same way.

“Kriff,” Anakin mutters. “You’re too good at that.”

His eyes flutter shut, his limbs trembling, and Obi-Wan pauses. Anakin would probably come very quickly, if Obi-Wan were to give his cock some more attention...

“We don’t have to go any further,” he finds himself saying. “If you want to stop here…”

But then Anakin is glaring at him.

“Your fingers are nice and all, but when I told you I wanted you to fuck me, I meant I wanted you to  _fuck me_.”

And who is Obi-Wan to refuse a request like that?

“Your wish is my command.”

Leaning back, Obi-Wan slicks up his cock with lube, and then lines up.

Anakin throws his head back onto the pillow when Obi-Wan starts to push inside; he looks nothing short of glorious, and he  _feels_  so incredible that Obi-Wan can’t keep the moans from escaping his lips. He struggles to think of anything beyond  _heat_  and  _tight_  and the urge to thrust into him. Still, he glances at the younger man when he bottoms out, giving him a moment to adjust to Obi-Wan’s length. Then he pulls out and gives a shallow thrust that feels wonderful, and makes Anakin gasp.

“Okay?”

Anakin’s lips quirk and he grinds down onto Obi-Wan’s cock.

“More than okay,” he says breathlessly. “Now  _fuck me_.”

It’s all the encouragement Obi-Wan needs. He starts thrusting, picking up a pace of short, hard thrusts, driving into the younger man with groans of pleasure. They’re not going to last long. Everyone on the ship can probably hear them, but Obi-Wan honestly can’t bring himself to care. Being inside Anakin is divine. Everything about Anakin is divine – the way he gasps on the end of Obi-Wan’s cock, the way his legs hook around Obi-Wan’s back to give him a better angle, the way his face contorts so prettily, his mouth a perfect ‘o’, and the absolutely obscene noise he makes when Obi-Wan brushes against his prostate. Watching him palm his own cock while he’s being fucked is too much. Obi-Wan is close before he knows it, and Anakin feels the way his thrusts start to falter.

“Are you gonna come in me, Master? Are you gonna fill me up—”

Obi-Wan interrupts him with a loud groan, burying his face in Anakin’s shoulder as his hips spasm and he goes over the edge. He hears a short burst of laughter from beneath him at the rather abrupt climax. In Obi-Wan’s defence, they did do a  _lot_  of foreplay.

Anakin is reaching down again to get himself off, but Obi-Wan grabs his wrist and stops him. Even as the waves of post-coital pleasure wash over him, he’s not going to neglect his lover. Obi-Wan removes his cock carefully, and shifts down the bed, until he’s between Anakin’s legs again. From this angle, Anakin looks wrecked in the best possible way. Obi-Wan takes his beautiful cock into his mouth again, and it doesn’t take long before Anakin is coming, shooting streams down Obi-Wan’s throat, with no remaining energy to summon anything more than a whimper.

When Obi-Wan crashes down on the bed beside him, they both let out long breaths of relief.

“That was… interesting.”

“It was.”

A pause.

“We need to clean up,” Obi-Wan says.

Their clothes are strewn everywhere. Misplaced items that they knocked over are still rolling around on the floor. And that goes without mentioning the state of the sheets. They’ve made a mess of the room, of the bed, and of each other.

“We do,” Anakin agrees.

Obi-Wan sighs.

“Five minutes.”

As their legs tangle together, and their heartbeats begin to calm again to the feeling of each other’s skin pressed close, they both know that they will be there for much longer.


End file.
